


warm and alive, i'm all over you

by kunimi_blep



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (lot of them because iwaizumi loves his husband), (not really haha oikawa is awake), 9/52, Breathplay, Established Relationship, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Morning Sex, Multiple Orgasms, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Safewords, Smut, Somnophilia, humping, they're so in love is what i really want to say, wow what are these tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29837592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunimi_blep/pseuds/kunimi_blep
Summary: hajime loses his breath.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 15
Kudos: 75





	warm and alive, i'm all over you

**Author's Note:**

> this is my best summary yet!!!! the irony of this when u read the fic HAHA  
> basically iwaizumi loves his husband so much he wants to try everything he wants. is what the summary should be hfhfhfhf

Hajime can and will admit it to no one else but himself and the lover he shares his bed with: he's always clingier in the mornings.

As he watches the very slight rise and fall of Tooru's back while he sleeps peacefully, there is a warmth that suffuses throughout every part of his body-- a feeling he's gotten used to over the years he and Tooru have been married. Well, _married_ is a loose term, he guesses. There are rings and they call each other husband, but much has to be done with legalities and ceremonies and other concerns. An athletic trainer and professional athlete both too far away from their homeland and living in separate continents can only find so much time for things like that. Even mornings together like this in Tooru's home are more rare than he likes. Still, every moment matters. Tooru matters.

The sunlight from the windows is blinding, but it isn't nearly as bright as even the smallest smile Tooru shows him when he turns his head, having been brought to consciousness by the very tips of Hajime's fingers. He rests his cheek on one arm, and the pillow looks soft under him, but not as soft as his hum of appreciation when Hajime continues tracing mindless patterns, feather-light, over Tooru's bare back.

He tries to avoid the marks he'd left last night, though he can't help but press a finger into the light bruise just at where Tooru's shoulder meets his nape, warm and tender and _his_. Tooru's eyes do not open in anger or alarm, but his eyebrows do furrow for a brief moment at the unexpected contact.

Hajime, admittedly, hasn't gotten much sleep last night, head filled with more excitement than anxiety taking turns within him. He knows, very well, that if he decides he doesn't want to do it this morning after all, even if he and Tooru had talked about it a handful of times already in the past weeks and even if Hajime had promised it just last night, sober and alert, Tooru would definitely not take it against him.

But he so, _so_ badly wants to give Tooru everything he wants, because his Tooru deserves everything, and just that thought alone makes his heart swell, and suddenly he's sure. He's wanted this just as much as Tooru has, after the first time it was brought up for the two of them to talk about and consider very seriously.

He braces himself. He wants to do this not only out of curiosity, and not even out of his own pleasure, but out of his desire to make Tooru feel good.

"Hey," Hajime whispers now, as he leans over Tooru's back. He holds himself up so as not to crush his lover under his weight, but the warmth of Tooru's skin is tempting all the same. "You awake?"

The only response he gets is a hum. This sound is, when they'd talked this over, enough of a sign already. Tooru's never been much of a heavy sleeper at all anyway; even if Hajime hadn't asked, he would know when Tooru is awake and when he isn't.

Still, this is new, and Hajime wants to make sure that everything goes right. "Tooru," he uses his name, uses his _voice_ , to make sure he has his attention. "Answer me. Are you awake?"

Tooru's pout is far, _far_ too adorable for what Hajime is planning to do with him, _to_ him, but it's also a reassuring sign. He is awake and knows what's going to happen. He was the one who had asked for this, after all. "I'm awake." His voice is quiet, his eyes still closed. Perfect.

"What are our safewords?"

A giggle first, and then, "I say Iwa-chan when I want to slow down." Hajime's grin is visible to no one as Tooru keeps his eyes shut at the slight embarrassment he feels from having to say their safewords out loud when he doesn't need them yet. Not that Hajime even wants him to need them at all. Though, Hajime hasn't heard Tooru call him that in forever-- it had been a silly nickname in high school, sent to the backburner to make way for more sincere and intimate _Hajime_ 's now that they've spent all this time in love. How many years ago was that, even? How many years has it been? "And milk bread when I want you to stop."

"Good," Hajime says, finally letting his weight fall on top of Tooru. His chest burns where it touches the muscles of Tooru's hard back, and already, anticipation moves his hands towards Tooru's to hold them down. One pulls Tooru's arm from under his face so Hajime can stretch it by their sides.

"Good," Tooru repeats in a whisper, a confirmation, tilting his head to face away from Hajime.

Hajime kisses the top of Tooru's head before ducking down, leaving a trail of small pecks across his nape, and then he lets his mouth linger just at his shoulder. Lips warm against his skin, he mumbles, "You remember what we talked about last night?" 

Hajime knows Tooru remembers. Asking for the safewords had been clue enough. But this is just another precaution, a clarification that he can still back out if he wants--

"I want it," is Tooru's immediate answer, whisper both fake-sleepy and alert, and heat pools in Hajime's gut at the breathlessness, the immediate yet barely concealed desire in his voice. A Tooru who knows what he wants, is not shy about it, and is insistent-- "I want you to do this to me." Hajime loves his husband like this, like always.

Hajime bites at his shoulder in understanding, affirmation. He knows this is much, much tamer than what he's seen people on the internet who need safewords usually do. But neither of them have tried anything like this before, well, not this far, at least-- so if Hajime is slowly sliding their arms along the sheets, bringing Tooru's hands together above his head, and if Hajime grasps the both of Tooru's in his one hand to free the other, and if Hajime grinds his arousal right against Tooru's ass like he only wants to take his own pleasure, then that's a good enough start.

There is a muffled gasp from Tooru at the sharp movement right above him.

Tooru, his sweet, beautiful, strong professional athlete of a husband, is letting himself be held down, as if he doesn't have any power in himself to push Hajime off if he so wishes. He doesn't struggle. He doesn't fight. If it weren't for the sounds Tooru just can't help but make, Hajime would think he isn't conscious in the first place. He lays still, unmoving under Hajime-- acting asleep, like Hajime doesn't care that he's doing this to his sleeping lover--

He humps himself right against Tooru's ass again, letting his hardness slide in between the firm cheeks. He catches himself pushing the head of his cock against Tooru's entrance a few times, knows Tooru feels it by the way he turns a little more aggressive in hiding his noises.

He keeps the pace of his thrusts slow but forceful, deliberate enough to make sure that Tooru's own cock, surely hard from it all even though they'd just begun, is met with the friction of their sheets below them. Hajime knows how much Tooru loves humping their bed when he's alone. But being made to? Having no choice but to? Right in front of-- right _under_ Hajime? Tooru must be leaking by now.

Unlike Tooru, Hajime has no trouble showing how good he's feeling. Right into Tooru's ear, he moans and grunts and praises him for being so good for him, nice and still and just _taking_ it, the fantasy of his voice falling on deaf ears, the fantasy of his voice the one to wake Tooru up giving him a much deeper sort of pleasure. They can work on Tooru's acting next time-- make him quieter so it's more believable. But for now, if he moans when Hajime calls him a slut who gets off on this even in his sleep just this one time, he is forgiven.

Hajime braces himself on his knees, making sure Tooru feels his own thighs pressing tight together in between Hajime's own. Still met with no struggle, he uses his free hand to grip at Tooru's hip, vice-like and possessive-- and if Tooru were really asleep, this would have woken him right up. But Tooru is only pretending, and Hajime is quickly understanding what the true appeal of this play is, so when he forces his cock into the tight heat between Tooru's thighs and is met not only with no resistance, but also no reaction, the sudden elation he feels is quite unparalleled.

"Shit," he makes sure to grunt into Tooru's ear. "Fuck, you feel so good." He slides his cock right in and out and in and out of the irresistible temptation of Tooru's thighs, even if it is a little dry and rough. There is a slight creaking to the bed now with how hard he's going, and he's in charge, and Tooru can't do anything, even if Hajime wants to very well come right then and there and stop or keep going. Hajime doesn't let himself fall too deep into that headspace, but for sure the feeling of taking and taking and taking even when Tooru _can't give_ , he feels, might be the one thing that's going to make him come besides the feeling of Tooru's heating skin on his cock.

The way Hajime holds Tooru's hip is bruising at best, and the truth is he would rather not let go, not only to keep Tooru in place, but also to keep himself grounded. Still-- there _is_ one more thing.

Letting go of Tooru's hip but still holding Tooru down by both of his hands in Hajime's grip, he slides his now free hand right at Tooru's head. He makes a teasing of playing with his hair and scratching at the back of his neck. Tooru is scarily fast at getting good pretending he's unconscious now, even as Hajime is humping him like an animal, with so much force that the bed is all but shaking.

At least that's what he thought. When Hajime grasps a handful of Tooru's hair and _pulls_ , the moan is loud in their room. He smiles at the reaction, how much-- or just how _little_ control Tooru has in all of this.

He lets go of his hair and slides his hand to right under Tooru's chin, tilting his head so he's facing Hajime, caressing the skin there, and then loosely wrapping his fingers around Tooru's neck.

Tooru's eyes snap open, wide and wild-looking. "Iwa--" he breathes, moans, "Iwa-chan--" and Hajime immediately lets go of his neck. He doesn't stop the movement of his hips even though his instinct tells him to, because that wasn't the word for it. Tooru only wants him to slow down.

Reaching over again to comb Tooru's hair away from his face, Hajime leaves a kiss on his forehead. "What's wrong?"

Tooru exhales. "Nothing, I--" His eyes are glassy as he blinks a couple of times. "Close--" He gulps. "Hajime--"

"Tooru, I need you to be clearer." Hajime is scared he fucked up for only one second, because now Tooru is pouting, asking for a kiss, a clear sign that really, nothing was, in fact, wrong.

"Too good," Tooru whispers after they share a lingering kiss. He clears his throat to speak a little louder. "Don't want this to end yet-- it--" Hajime would be lying if he said Tooru being so out of it he can't form coherent sentences didn't turn him the fuck on, but he needs to listen carefully to every single word he can form. "I was close-- want-- I want more."

Hajime kisses him again, more forceful this time, to show that he understands. He takes his time taking him apart with his lips and teeth and tongue alone, gives him time to regain his bearings, to make it clear what he still wants. He asks, still, right against Tooru's lips. "What do you want?"

"Suffocate me," Tooru moans into Hajime's mouth, and maybe Tooru asking that of him being this hot makes his head spin, but he wastes no time in shoving Tooru's head forward, forcing him to bury his face into the pillow. There's less risk like this-- Hajime's hands are unpracticed, don't know where to hold and which spots to hold down, might leave marks Tooru won't know how to hide-- but if the only goal is to restrict airflow, it at least said on the internet that this works just as well.

"What do you do when you want me to let go?" Hajime eases the weight of his hand so Tooru can take a breath, demonstrates what he would do at Tooru's command.

The movement of Tooru's hands still caught in Hajime's grip causes him to look up. Tooru scratches at Hajime's wrist, at the back of his hand, at his fingers, wherever Tooru's fingers can reach, and he can dig his nails in pretty deep when he wants to, and the non-verbal safeword is quickly put in place.

"Got it," he says, then, for good measure, adds on, "Love you, Tooru."

Even if he feels cheesy saying that, and at a time as filthy as this, Tooru's little laugh lets him know he's said just the right thing. He turns his head, rests his cheek on the pillow, looks up at Hajime as best as he can. The light in his eyes can very well put the sunlight shining through their bedroom windows to shame. "Love you, too."

Very unfair, he thinks, how Tooru is the one asking to be suffocated but Hajime is the one who's feeling out of breath first.

When Hajime doesn't make the first move, too love-struck to remember, Tooru voluntarily turns to press his face against the pillow again, and it is all the go signal Hajime could ever need.

He pulls at Tooru's hair to lift him up just a bit before he pushes to test his control. There is no protest, only the buck of Tooru's ass against Hajime's cock to remind him to _get the fuck on with it_.

So he does, actually, gets the fuck on with it, starting slow like he has any business teasing when Tooru is so obviously asking, begging, demanding. It doesn't take long to build up to the pace he'd been at before they slowed down, and before he knows it, he's the one who has to fight to keep himself quiet, even though he doesn't even have to.

He watches Tooru carefully, eyes focused despite the roughness of his actions, the jostling of his weight against Tooru's. He switches his gaze from the one hand gripping att the back of Tooru's head to the hand he's got Tooru held down with, eyes darting back and forth so that he doesn't have a chance to miss even the smallest thing.

It doesn't take even the full, long first scratch to Hajime's wrist before he lets up, and he makes a show of being the one who guides Tooru by his hair to turn his head. He takes lungfuls of air and Hajime would be worried, if it weren't for the actual _smile_ on Tooru's lips.

Hajime almost misses it when he asks for _more_. "Ah-- again."

Kissing his ear as a warning, Hajime shoves Tooru's head back against the pillow, fucks into his thighs, whispers as many praises as his deteriorating coherency can let him. Tooru's lack of moaning this time has Hajime realizing in a second that he's just so intensely into it that he wants to _really_ feel used. So he does, he uses him.

It takes longer this time before Tooru's nails are digging into the back of Hajime's hand. This time, Hajime lets his hair go entirely, choosing to hold him by his cheek and bring their faces as close together as possible without the threat of kisses stealing his air away. The breaths Hajime lets out are the breaths Tooru breathes in. He waits for Tooru to open his eyes after steadying his breathing before whispering, affirming, "You're doing so well."

He didn't think it was possible, but Tooru's eyes glaze over even more at the praise. Hajime is so, _so_ in love with him.

"Just--" Tooru grunts, and then sighs at a particularly hard thrust, mewls. "One more-- last-- Hajime, please, one last--"

"Got you." Hajime is quick to comply because he knows how close Tooru is, has been since he'd been asked to slow down. There are no complains about how short this is gonna take. The heat in his gut feels like actual flames inside him where they're connected. "Got you, baby." He kisses right at the corner of Tooru's eye where a tear is threatening to fall, and then he's using his wrist to keep Tooru's head down, pressing harder for this last time.

He feels Tooru trying to meet Hajime's thrusts, sees the tremble in his shoulders, all pretense of being asleep thrown out the window. The slide of Hajime's cock rubs just right against his balls, and he gives Tooru everything he's got--

And then, like something has suddenly snapped, Tooru is wrenching his hands free from Hajime's grip to instead pull at the sheets above him, and Hajime is the one to pull Tooru's face off of the pillow. His neck arches beautifully, perfect for any mark Hajime so wishes to mar his skin with.

"Hajime--" Tooru's gasps and moans as he breathes in and out harshly are nothing short of music to his ears. "Hajime, I can't--" He sounds like he's choking on his own pleasure and it's absolutely driving him mad. "Want-- Hajime, close--"

Hajime really, really can't help the smirk that forms on his lips. When he starts slowing down his thrusts again, Tooru whines in protest, curses and thrashes, all until Hajime props himself up on one arm as he raises himself up on his knees and holds Tooru up to follow.

He would pity Tooru for his cries if he weren't so sure of what he was doing now. The moment Hajime reaches under them to touch Tooru's cock, he tenses, shudders, and not even three full strokes in, he comes with a whine of Hajime's name falling off of his lips. He trembles, breaths stuttering, but he humps right into Hajime's hand, riding his orgasm out.

Hajime is strong enough to save Tooru from falling all boneless and satiated, so he works to slowly lower Tooru down, gentle-- but Tooru is scrambling to get out from his hold. He's turning to lay on his back, eyes still shut and hands blindly reaching towards Hajime, scratching and gripping anywhere on Hajime's body he can touch.

He's panting like he hasn't gotten his release yet even though Hajime is a hundred percent sure he already has, as evidenced from the wetness of his fingers and traces of cum left on Tooru's cock, and as beautiful as he is and the sight that he makes, Hajime is alarmed at the irregularity of this kind of reaction from him.

He leans down, careful not to smother Tooru with his weight. Tooru wraps his arms around Hajime instantly and clings onto him tightly, ruts his hips up against Hajime's.

"Tooru," he calls. The only response he gets is his lover bucking up into him even harder, more desperate. "Baby, open your eyes."

Tooru's eyebrows furrow and his mouth opens, but he still doesn't heed any of Hajime's calls of his name. Although he can feel how hard Tooru still is against his own cock, the pleasure buzzing and fizzling inside him, he needs Tooru to come back to him first.

Hajime decides to lift himself off entirely, struggles a bit at wrenching Tooru's arms off of himself, but he misses the warmth of Tooru's skin as soon as he lets go, and the way Tooru's hips strain and thrust up into nothing but air burns itself into the back of Hajime's eyes-- and then Tooru is coming again, cock twitching as small beads of white come out of the slit. His release doesn't shoot out of him this time, coming in more like a slow dribble, but it wracks through Tooru's body the way any intense orgasm would.

"On me--" Tooru chokes on his words. "Hajime--" He reaches down to stroke himself despite of and towards oversensitivity. His other hand plays with the cum that's slid down his cock and settled onto his pelvis, points at his skin. "Hajime, cum on me-- here-- want it--" Tooru is panting, "Want you--"

Hajime wouldn't ever be caught dead denying Tooru anything he so prettily begs for, so he settles on his side, pushing himself as close to Tooru as his slight thrashing allows, and then he takes himself in his hand, rubbing at the head, thumbing at his slit, stroking over the length as fast as humanly possible, and then he's coming all over Tooru's skin, his release almost mixing in with what little of Tooru's there is.

Tooru turns his head, breathing against Hajime's neck harshly, and he twitches full-bodied again, moaning against Hajime's skin, and Hajime absentmindedly wonders if he'd just come a third time or not.

"Tooru?"

Tooru is still taking deep inhales in and slow exhales out. He looks so out of it that Hajime is worried for a second--

"Hajime." His voice sounds rough, but at least he sounds more aware now. Tooru swallows. He throws an arm over Hajime's front and he immediately embraces Tooru, using all the strength he has left in him to pull Tooru over so that he's laying on top of him. When he opens his eyes, Hajime doesn't miss the flutter of his eyelashes. "Hajime." Sweaty, panting, blissed out, wrecked, he calls his husband's name again, and then he smiles. The years have made Tooru stronger and bigger in body than Hajime, but his smiles-- his smiles after they make love to each other are always the purest, most innocent, most beautiful things.

The come-down takes shorter than Hajime had expected, but he's grateful Tooru is quick to regain some semblance of composure after everything.

Hajime rubs his hands up and down Tooru's sides, and then he lifts a hand up to his face. Tooru naturally leans his cheek into the touch, never breaking eye contact with him. This is as much to ground himself as it is to reassure Hajime that he's okay. "You okay there?"

A laugh, breathless and disbelieving, chimes quietly in the morning quiet of the room. "I love you so much."

Hajime flicks at Tooru's forehead, very softly it was barely even a touch. "You liked it that much?"

Tooru ducks, hides his face in Hajime's chest, nods against him. "You're so good," he mumbles, then, looking back up and straight at him, "You're always so good to me."

How Tooru can say this so confidently when Hajime was almost scared he'd overdone it, worried he'd pushed Tooru too much-- any time during their play, Tooru could have used the safe word, or even pushed Hajime off of himself with how much stronger he's gotten, how strong he's always been, yet he hadn't, because he trusts Hajime, because Hajime is _always so good to him_.

His heart is going to burst inside his chest at this rate.

"Next time," Tooru starts, and Hajime's head is already spinning at the prospect of being given that much control again. "I want your hands around my neck."

"You still in contact with the, uhm," Hajime laughs at himself. "The BDSM guy you mentioned? I'll ask him about that kinda stuff. I'm sure he knows important things about breathplay that I shouldn't only be relying on the internet for."

Tooru bounces on top of him and absolutely beams. "You're literally the best. Ever."

When Tooru reaches up for a kiss, it's slow, careful but deliberate, and for one second, Hajime wonders if the way Tooru takes his breath away could count as breathplay. If it counts as choking. If it counts as suffocating. Of course, it doesn't. Hajime has never felt more at ease and free than now, with Tooru on top of him and the taste of his giggles in Hajime's mouth.

"I try," he says, because he does. He wants to do everything he can to give his husband a good time, make him feel good, better, best, because that's what he deserves.

Hajime is sure that he is the only one who, not only has the right to, but also _deserves_ to love Tooru like this. And Tooru deserves to be made love to, and to be wrecked, sometimes separately, and most times simultaneously.

**Author's Note:**

> [💛](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ndeTSZvZlxz0JgMc7xx9w?si=b1a08dcc0aec4339)  
> 


End file.
